


He Stole My Body, I Stole His Heart

by orphan_account, ThatGirlWhoLovesYaoi



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Anal Sex, Human Bill Cipher, Jealous Bill, M/M, Mental Instability, Mental Institutions, Mindfuck, Mistaken Identity, Multiple Personalities, Poor Dipper, Protective Bill Cipher, Self-Harm, Underage Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, Unprofessional Relationships, mental disabilities
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-03-22 10:44:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3725818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatGirlWhoLovesYaoi/pseuds/ThatGirlWhoLovesYaoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[After Sock Opera]<br/>What if Mabel didn't know Dipper made a deal with Bill, and when Dipper regains his body, he can't remember anything?<br/>Five years after the attempted murder of Mabel and Stan, Dipper Pines is still institutionalized; even worse, he's actually begun to lose himself. When a familiar face appears as his new psychiatrist, he decides that two can play games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 0- The Incident

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I'm pretty sure this story will be short because i am still working on Regretting Diamonds and Jewels, and just wanted to write something different. I saw a picture on pinterest/deviant art the other day and decided to write this inspired by that picture. I hope you all enjoy this and i will leave a link to the picture! ;)
> 
> [EDIT]: This is going to be an ongoing series!

Gravity Falls FF 

Inspiration: Only a twelve year old after all, by Azumizai [DA]

As Dipper regained his body, all he could feel was pain, excruciating pain. He groaned and struggled to his feet, his body aching in protest. He was slouched a bit, but still standing. He brought a hand to his head, that pounded as though a hammer was hitting it repeatedly, but quickly retracted it to eyelevel when he felt a warm substance on his fingers. He began to panic when he saw it was blood, the bright red fluid contrasting greatly against his skin. He reached his other hand up and felt his head again, as though it may be only a mere illusion. Though, when the boy looked at his hand, it wasn't an illusion, he was bleeding. Tears leaked from his eyes as he stared at the blood and cried out for the people he cared for most.

"M-Mabel?...Grunkle Stan?" He looked around in a panic. He was standing on a stage in the Gravity Falls theater, it was empty except for Mabel and Stan, who both stood in front of him with scared and worried expressions. Dipper squinted his eyes at them, his vision blurring in and out. "W-what...happened? How did I get here?"

He couldn't remember anything beyond his fight with Mabel about helping him figure out the laptop password. Everything, his memories, his thoughts, they just felt out of reach. As though they're right at the very edge of his mind, but won't come... Just then the doors to the theater burst open. 

"POLICE!" A group of officers, clad in black, stormed into the large room, guns poised in Dipper's direction. Firefighters followed right after, spraying water to put out the flames that nearly engulfed the theater. Dipper glanced around again, how had he not noticed the fire? He then became very aware of the scorching heat that surrounded him, on the verge of burning his skin. The officers swarmed around him, two knocking him to his knees and cuffing his hands behind his back. They then heaved him back up to his feet.

"Dipper Pines, you are under arrest for attempted murder and vandalism of Gravity Falls theater. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do may be used against you in a court of law..." The speech the officer gave went on, the usual police phrases Dipper was used to hearing from his and Mabel's favorite television show, Ducktective.

Dipper looked around panically, what did he do?! His eyes landed on Mabel and Grunkle Stan, the two looking guilty and sympathetic. 

"MABEL!?" He yelled out to her. She froze, her eyes wide with fear. "What did I do?! Please! Tell me!" 

Dipper was sobbing as the police began to drag him towards the exit. He didn't know what to do, he was scared and upset. Why weren't either of them helping? Why were they just standing there watching?! 

Mabel looked hesitant to speak, but opened her mouth after a few short seconds. "You...you don't remember?" Her voice was cracked and small, filled to the brim with terror. 

Before he could respond, the officers tugged Dipper out of the theater doors, the flashing red and blue lights blinding him momentarily. He was then shoved into a police car, non too gently. As the car drove away, Dipper looked out the rear windshield, seeing his sister and great uncle walk out of the theater. All they did was stare at the distancing vehicle, just stand there and STARE. He felt betrayal seep into his constricting heart, along with fear and depression. Why would they just do nothing? Nothing at all?! They didn't even TRY to stop the officers from dragging him away. Not one damn movement, no plea of a misunderstanding, no cry of his innocence. Dipper froze, his heart feeling like a snake was slowly tightening its body around it. Was he really not innocent? That question, along with the query of what he did, floated around in his mind.

Dipper sluggishly turned back around, tears flowing freely from his eyes, and let his head hang low as he stared at his feet, trying to recall what he did. 

_______________________________________________________________________________________________

Two officers led him to a small room and sat him down in a chair, cuffing his hands to a loop on a metal table in front of him. When they left him alone, Dipper examined the room. There was one more chair, located at the other end of the table, the room was a dull gray, lit by a hanging bulb, and there was a large rectangular mirror built in one of the walls. An interrogation room, Dipper inferred. 

He sat there for a long while before the door he came through opened again, a man with an aged face and brown hair walked in. He carried several files in his hand, and had a serious expression. He walked over to the other chair and sat down, placing the files in front of him. The man stared at Dipper for a long while, and Dipper could tell by the end of all this, he was going to kill anyone who stared at him for an unnecessary long period of time. The staring was really getting on his nerves. 

"My name is Carl Davidson, chief of police. Dipper Pines, I presume?" The man finally spoke, his voice deep and gravelly. Dipper swallowed harshly, feeling his hands begin to tremble, this man sitting before him was very intimidating. 

"Y-yes..." He squeaked out, nervously tugging on his cuffs a bit. He looked around the room, not being able to look Carl in the eyes. He then swallowed once more, gaining a smidge of courage, and asked one of the questions that had been eating away at his brain. "W...What did I do?"

The chief narrowed his eyes a little, but otherwise his face stayed very stoic and unmoving. The young boy just knew he was judging him. "You can't remember?"

"N-no sir." The man stared at him again, looking as though he were debating on whether to tell Dipper what happened or to keep it from him for now. 

"You attempted to murder Mabel Pines and set the theater on fire." His voice was merciful and unhesitant. Dipper felt his stomach drop and the room around him instantly darkened. He couldn't have...that mustn't have been the truth. He didn't do that! A flash then occurred in his mind, he remembered Bill Cipher stealing his body. It was him, it must have been! Dipper tugged harshly against the cuff's chain, enraged and aghast. 

"No! Nononono no! It wasn't me! It was Bill! Bill did it!" The chief narrowed his eyes once more then reached for the files and pulled out pictures from security cameras. They were all of him. Him threatening Mabel, him setting the theater on fire, him nearly killing Mabel! That wasn't him! It wasn't! "NO! IT WAS BILL WHO DID THAT! HE TOOK OVER MY BODY! IT WAS BILL!"

As Dipper was losing control, the chief motioned his head at the mirror, and only a few seconds later more officers came in and restrained the boy. Dipper screamed and yelled, trying to tell them he didn't do any of it, that Bill did, but none of them listened. They dragged him away to a dark cell and locked him in.

Dipper overheard the chief informing other workers that he most likely was in denial, or had amnesia and a possible multiple personality disorder. Dipper went to a metal bench in a corner farthest away from the cell door, and curled in on himself. He clenched his hair between his fingers, tears building up again. He was only a little boy, what was he supposed to do? No one would listen to a child. He bit down on his lip to keep from making any noise as he cried and quickly lost hope. No one would listen to him...he wasn't insane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://azumizai.deviantart.com/art/Only-a-twelve-year-old-after-all-485668642


	2. 1- Sleep

5 Years Later

\----

Angry, protesting shouts echoed through the long corridors, followed by the sounds of struggling and several objects crashing to the tile floor. This had become a usual occurrence in Topaz Heights, but it still boded ill for whomever must answer that din. Nurses and doctors nearby all rushed to Room 618, the room that currently contained the most problematic patient in the institution. The patient, surprisingly strong despite his wiry frame, flailed around, trying to escape the grasps of the people around him. He got in a lucky hit, managing to send an orderly reeling back into the crowd of medical staff. Pills and sedatives scattered across the floor. The institution's employees all struggled to get the boy pinned to his bed, and when they succeeded, ordered another nurse retrieve the fallen needle.

" Nurse, 15 mg of diazepam, stat."

" Of course, doctor."

The needle pierced the patient's skin a touch too roughly, a few drops of red rolling down his arm. He continued to struggle, his movements growing sluggish. The team were soon satisfied, and let up on their grips.

Picking up his glasses from the floor, Doctor Reed sighed.

" Keep him on a drip for the night. I get the feeling that he's feeling particularly rambunctious."

The nurses nodded amongst themself as the weary man limped to the door. Pausing for a moment, he sighed once more.

"....and will someone please contact Mr. Jorgen? This room is filthy."

Another murmur of agreement as they composed themselves. Beyond his violent tendencies and delusions, many still were chilled at the current state of Room 618; the soft blue walls now covered in scratches and ramblings, and the floors etched with ciphers no one could decode.

\-----

The boy slowly began to calm, the world around him becoming clouded and fuzzy. The workers released him, cleaned up, and left, the boy curling in on himself right after. They would return soon, with their IVs and their warm medicines that made it all infinitely worse. It reminded him almost of an old saying; something about good people treading the road to Hell. These people thought that they were helping him when they sent him into the darkness. He didn't want to fall asleep, because nothing good ever came from it. Sleep meant flashes of gold, and laughter that felt like hooks in his flesh.

He hugged his favorite sweater closer to his body, the soft fabric warming him. It was the only thing that seemed to stave off the beast in his dreams, if only slightly. The boy still had no recollection of when he had gotten this sweater, almost like a teddy bear to him by now, but by the bright white color and the blue pine tree on the front, he'd say his sister gave it to him. He slumped forwards, grip on the garment tightening. He hated this new life. Hated not ever being sure of his own memories, of what was reality and what wasn't.

The boy resisted the burning in his eyes. He couldn't cry; the last time he did, the staff changed his medication to something that made his head feel like it was full of cotton. He wondered vaguely about that incident, and about why they supposedly cared so much for someone like him. He wasn't anybody anymore; just a poor little Nobody that tried to kill his family. That was him, right?

His vision started to darken, and his mind kept fading in and out. The boy tried to force himself to stay awake; he knew deep down that it was a futile process. The drugs would always win against his will. He pictured his sister's happy face from years ago, before his life took a turn, before demons and pills and unfathomable darkness. What would she think of him now, face buried in a piece of cloth? Was she thinking of him at all?

Before he fades away completely, he remembers something else: his sister watching as he was taken away. She didn't defend him at all. Maybe she thought it would sound too crazy.

The boy chuckles grimly at that thought. _Crazy._

His door opens again, bringing light and noise and _life_ inside. The nurses and orderlies keep out of his reach, preparing the IV for use. A small part of his brain splutters that he should fight, shouldn't take this like some dog. The rest of him knows better by now.

He puts up no resistance as they prod him into movement; he crawls into bed, and even offers his arm for the needle. Maybe he won't dream this time. Maybe this will work.

It's unlikely, but he can hope.  
\--------------------------------------------------


End file.
